Lydia's new best friend and almost constant companion since Christmas has been Mickey Mouse, a three-foot tall stuffed toy she received from Grandma Jane. As we readied ourselves for church this past Sunday, I made the final call--"It's time to be in the van!" The older kids began the mad dash, still throwing on shoes and coats and grabbing the diaper bag on the way out the door. I went to check on Lydia, who had received orders a few minutes prior to put on her church shoes. I found her on the floor of her bedroom, pulling on her shoes, with Mickey laying beside her, wearing one of Lydia's dresses. "See, Mickey's ready for church, too." So Mickey went to church with us and sat in the front row right beside Lydia with his ears peeking up over the chair for all behind us to see. Mickey was very reverent during the service. His "best friend" Lydia could take a few lessons from him.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Lydia's New Best Friend
Whoever happens to be with Lydia at any given moment is referred to as her "best friend." This might be Grandma one day, a little girl who comes over to play the next or the little girl she sat beside during the children's sermon at church on any given Sunday.
Lydia's new best friend and almost constant companion since Christmas has been Mickey Mouse, a three-foot tall stuffed toy she received from Grandma Jane. As we readied ourselves for church this past Sunday, I made the final call--"It's time to be in the van!" The older kids began the mad dash, still throwing on shoes and coats and grabbing the diaper bag on the way out the door. I went to check on Lydia, who had received orders a few minutes prior to put on her church shoes. I found her on the floor of her bedroom, pulling on her shoes, with Mickey laying beside her, wearing one of Lydia's dresses. "See, Mickey's ready for church, too." So Mickey went to church with us and sat in the front row right beside Lydia with his ears peeking up over the chair for all behind us to see. Mickey was very reverent during the service. His "best friend" Lydia could take a few lessons from him.
Lydia's new best friend and almost constant companion since Christmas has been Mickey Mouse, a three-foot tall stuffed toy she received from Grandma Jane. As we readied ourselves for church this past Sunday, I made the final call--"It's time to be in the van!" The older kids began the mad dash, still throwing on shoes and coats and grabbing the diaper bag on the way out the door. I went to check on Lydia, who had received orders a few minutes prior to put on her church shoes. I found her on the floor of her bedroom, pulling on her shoes, with Mickey laying beside her, wearing one of Lydia's dresses. "See, Mickey's ready for church, too." So Mickey went to church with us and sat in the front row right beside Lydia with his ears peeking up over the chair for all behind us to see. Mickey was very reverent during the service. His "best friend" Lydia could take a few lessons from him.
Christmas Blessings
One of the things Matt and I have been most excited about since living in this house is the ability to have people over more often. By God's grace, we were able to do exactly that over the holidays. We hosted half a dozen gatherings for friends and family during the week of Christmas and we loved every minute of it. The last get-together took place here last Saturday with fourteen aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas and grandpas in attendance. We had a great time of feasting and fellowship. It all ended rather abruptly, however, when Lydia got "snapped up" in the folding chair on which she was trying to stand. She hit the edge of the table on the way down and ended up with a nasty cut on her lower lip and an even nastier owie on her upper gums. Thankfully, Dentist Grandpa Tom was here and after inspecting the injury, he assured us Lydia wouldn't need stitches. Most everyone who was still here left after the bloody/screaming/crying incident--it pretty much was a party-ender. Grandpa Tom stayed, however, and held Lydia on his lap and gauze on her lip. He kept saying, "No more talking, Lydia, we want this to stop bleeding." It was all to no avail. Lydia kept talking, but Grandpa Tom the Great was still able to get the bleeding to stop. Daddy and I were thankful we wouldn't be spending the night in the ER. Here are a couple pictures of more pleasant Christmas memories:
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Christmas Cheer
Last night we had our family Christmas present opening time. We started this tradition a few years ago. Everything would get so confusing and chaotic on Christmas Eve and Matt and I always missed the kids' reactions to the gifts we'd given them. So now we open our family gifts a couple of days before Christmas so that we get the full benefit of all the excited cheering, jumping and (sometimes) crying.
Lydia's reactions were so cute this year. I gave her a package of socks. When she opened them she jumped up and down and said, "Socks! Just what I always wanted for Christmas!"
When Daddy opened up his hot sauce he had gotten from Paul, Lydia jumped up and down and said, "Yeah, Daddy! Hot sauce for your food!"
Joel is still a bit young to "get" the whole present opening thing, so Lydia graciously helped him open his gifts. When she got the paper off of the little truck Joel received, she said, "Yeah Joel! A truck! A truck!" It was so kind of Lydia to provide her little brother her present-opening services as well as the appropriate reaction to the present.
In Lydia's defense, she had to watch everyone else open presents because we saved her present, the dollhouse, for the very last. First, she opened up the little Ty dolls that Grace and Elizabeth gave her. There were four dolls, all exactly the same. We found them at Goodwill so they were within the girls' budget. Lydia was delighted. Then we had Lydia open the furniture that came with the dollhouse. She was so excited she could hardly contain herself. We let her play with the dolls and the furniture for a few minutes and then I said, "Lydia, what do you think your dolls might need to keep them warm and dry?" As we all marched upstairs, Lydia said, "I know! Coats!" When we got upstairs we told her to take the sheet off of the big thing in the corner. After she removed the sheet and saw the dollhouse, she stood and stared silently for a brief moment. Lydia--at a loss for words--pretty amazing. Then she started jumping and cheering. The whole family got a big kick out of watching her reaction.
The biggest hit of the night, however, was a large magnifying glass that Grace and Elizabeth bought Paul at the dollar store. All the little kids loved it. Joel picked it up and looked through it and Paul said, "Look! Joel wants to investigate, too!"
As we were readying ourselves for bed Grace asked, "Mommy, when is it that you loose all the little kid anticipation of opening your gifts?" I asked her, "Why, did that happen to you?" "Yeah," she said. I went on to explain that it's hard to put a finger on it, but one year, when you're about thirteen, you realize you don't have all that wonderful anticipation anymore. Then you begin to get more enjoyment out of watching others open their gifts. That's why Mommy and Grandma are always last to open their gifts.
Today is our day to ready ourselves and the house for tomorrow. The septic has been pumped (more on that another day) in anticipation of the extra family we're expecting. Matt is going to pick up a birthday cake for Jesus at Dairy Queen because I didn't make a Red Velvet cake in my effort to "simplify." I'm going to try to get all the laundry done so I won't have to worry about it on Christmas. By tonight we'll have our work done and we'll cuddle up around the fire, finish hanging the ornaments on the Jesse Tree and remind ourselves of the greatest gift of all--the Christ child.
Lydia's reactions were so cute this year. I gave her a package of socks. When she opened them she jumped up and down and said, "Socks! Just what I always wanted for Christmas!"
When Daddy opened up his hot sauce he had gotten from Paul, Lydia jumped up and down and said, "Yeah, Daddy! Hot sauce for your food!"
Joel is still a bit young to "get" the whole present opening thing, so Lydia graciously helped him open his gifts. When she got the paper off of the little truck Joel received, she said, "Yeah Joel! A truck! A truck!" It was so kind of Lydia to provide her little brother her present-opening services as well as the appropriate reaction to the present.
In Lydia's defense, she had to watch everyone else open presents because we saved her present, the dollhouse, for the very last. First, she opened up the little Ty dolls that Grace and Elizabeth gave her. There were four dolls, all exactly the same. We found them at Goodwill so they were within the girls' budget. Lydia was delighted. Then we had Lydia open the furniture that came with the dollhouse. She was so excited she could hardly contain herself. We let her play with the dolls and the furniture for a few minutes and then I said, "Lydia, what do you think your dolls might need to keep them warm and dry?" As we all marched upstairs, Lydia said, "I know! Coats!" When we got upstairs we told her to take the sheet off of the big thing in the corner. After she removed the sheet and saw the dollhouse, she stood and stared silently for a brief moment. Lydia--at a loss for words--pretty amazing. Then she started jumping and cheering. The whole family got a big kick out of watching her reaction.
The biggest hit of the night, however, was a large magnifying glass that Grace and Elizabeth bought Paul at the dollar store. All the little kids loved it. Joel picked it up and looked through it and Paul said, "Look! Joel wants to investigate, too!"
As we were readying ourselves for bed Grace asked, "Mommy, when is it that you loose all the little kid anticipation of opening your gifts?" I asked her, "Why, did that happen to you?" "Yeah," she said. I went on to explain that it's hard to put a finger on it, but one year, when you're about thirteen, you realize you don't have all that wonderful anticipation anymore. Then you begin to get more enjoyment out of watching others open their gifts. That's why Mommy and Grandma are always last to open their gifts.
Today is our day to ready ourselves and the house for tomorrow. The septic has been pumped (more on that another day) in anticipation of the extra family we're expecting. Matt is going to pick up a birthday cake for Jesus at Dairy Queen because I didn't make a Red Velvet cake in my effort to "simplify." I'm going to try to get all the laundry done so I won't have to worry about it on Christmas. By tonight we'll have our work done and we'll cuddle up around the fire, finish hanging the ornaments on the Jesse Tree and remind ourselves of the greatest gift of all--the Christ child.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Christmas Miracle
Last year at this time, I was in the middle of a wrestling match with God. I had spent Monday of that week in the ER in extreme pain. First I was told I would be having some type of surgery that day, then I was told I was miscarrying. "Go home and ride it out."
I didn't ride it out. I argued with God all week. "You asked me to trust You, and now this is happening." That Sunday, our pastor showed us pictures of the time when he was living in Jerusalem. I probably was the only one crying at the showing. To see where Jesus actually walked, knowing that He left His former glory to walk amongst us in the dust and filth and our sin, it all hit me afresh. I was completely humbled. I prayed right then and there, "Lord, you bought me for a price payed with Your own precious blood. Do with me as You will."
The next day, which was Christmas Eve, I got a call from my doctor. He told me that he thought things were going to be alright. My hormone levels were going up as they should and that I should come into the office in a couple of weeks for an ultrasound. I told him that he had made our Christmas. My first thought after I hung up the phone was, "How great are the mercies of the Lord, they are new every morning." I was ashamed of the cantankerous attitude that I'd had all week and repented of it right then and there.
Here is a picture of that baby boy, named Jude because Jude means "praise." His middle name (also his Daddy's middle name) is Christopher, which means Christ-bearer. Jude is thriving. He smiles and coos and is tipping the scales at sixteen pounds. That's right, he's not yet four months old and he's wearing 6-9 mos. clothes (the cute little outfit he's wearing in the picture was given to him by our dear friend Eleanor).
I read the following in the book of Daniel this morning: "For He is the living God and He endures forever; His kingdom will not be destroyed, His dominion will never end. He rescues and He saves; He performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth. He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions." And He has rescued my baby Jude. What wonderful plans do you have for this boy, Lord? Worthy is the Lamb, worthy to be praised.
I didn't ride it out. I argued with God all week. "You asked me to trust You, and now this is happening." That Sunday, our pastor showed us pictures of the time when he was living in Jerusalem. I probably was the only one crying at the showing. To see where Jesus actually walked, knowing that He left His former glory to walk amongst us in the dust and filth and our sin, it all hit me afresh. I was completely humbled. I prayed right then and there, "Lord, you bought me for a price payed with Your own precious blood. Do with me as You will."
The next day, which was Christmas Eve, I got a call from my doctor. He told me that he thought things were going to be alright. My hormone levels were going up as they should and that I should come into the office in a couple of weeks for an ultrasound. I told him that he had made our Christmas. My first thought after I hung up the phone was, "How great are the mercies of the Lord, they are new every morning." I was ashamed of the cantankerous attitude that I'd had all week and repented of it right then and there.
Here is a picture of that baby boy, named Jude because Jude means "praise." His middle name (also his Daddy's middle name) is Christopher, which means Christ-bearer. Jude is thriving. He smiles and coos and is tipping the scales at sixteen pounds. That's right, he's not yet four months old and he's wearing 6-9 mos. clothes (the cute little outfit he's wearing in the picture was given to him by our dear friend Eleanor).
I read the following in the book of Daniel this morning: "For He is the living God and He endures forever; His kingdom will not be destroyed, His dominion will never end. He rescues and He saves; He performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth. He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions." And He has rescued my baby Jude. What wonderful plans do you have for this boy, Lord? Worthy is the Lamb, worthy to be praised.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Firewood
We've been thoroughly enjoying our new (to us) fireplace insert, especially with the temperatures dipping into the single digits here lately. We used up all the firewood I insisted Matt bring over here from the old house. The prospect of Christmas without a fire seemed unthinkable, so Matt ordered a cord of firewood.
The guy showed up with the load right after quiet time today. I naively thought he'd stack it where I wanted it. No, he just threw it on the driveway. He insisted that it would only take an hour or so to stack, but that I'd better get on it because the snow was starting to fly. My naivete also extended to not knowing how much wood is actually in a cord of wood. It's a lot. I started stacking while Paul rearranged the pile in the driveway. By the time Matt got home from work, I had the job two thirds completed and then he and Paul finished it for me.
Matt was pleased with my idea of stacking the firewood on the front porch so that it would be easier to bring into the house. However, I had the idea before I actually saw how much wood there was. So now our house looks like we're expecting Old Man Winter to produce weather like that found in the Swiss Alps. Oh well, it's better than a moldy pumpkin.
Goodbye to an Old Friend
(I wrote the following not knowing that my dear husband had already posted about his truck. For those desiring a more detailed account, read this post. If not, skip it.)
Matt sold his pickup truck this past weekend. That '66 Chevy served him well. He bought it when he was in high school. He replaced the transmission (twice) and made many other improvements, including installing an ignition switch so he didn't need the key to start the truck. Matt's most frequent passenger in those early years was his Golden Retriever, Roscoe. When I arrived on the scene during Matt's last year of college, I took Roscoe's seat beside Matt and Roscoe was relegated to the back of the pickup. Roscoe passed away, but the truck, she kept going.
That truck made many trips back and forth over the mountains to and from college. After Matt graduated, it took him to work everyday. It brought all our wedding gifts to our first tiny apartment. It transported my Grandma's piano to our first little house. Gracie was just two weeks old at the time and she made the journey North and back with us. The truck hauled loads of junk to the dump and countless loads of bark, sod, dirt and brick. She saved Matt (and our black lab, Abby) from terrible injury on icy roads one early January morning when she rolled, but landed upright with Matt and the dog safely inside. Matt and a friend banged out the dents (as best they could) and Matt continued to drive the truck to work for the next two years.
The truck never really recovered from the rollover, though, and continued to fall into disrepair. In all her lifetime she never was converted to use unleaded gas. The pickup needed a new radiator and had numerous other ailments. Yet, she took her biyearly trip to the dump and was even able to transport Matt's riding lawnmower to our new house this past summer. Alas, though, her time was done. She had served her owner well for many years. The truck was sold to a man who seemed to have high hopes of repairing her. Maybe she still has the capability of providing a another batch of memories to the new owner, a man who will have the time to love her the way Matt always did.
Matt sold his pickup truck this past weekend. That '66 Chevy served him well. He bought it when he was in high school. He replaced the transmission (twice) and made many other improvements, including installing an ignition switch so he didn't need the key to start the truck. Matt's most frequent passenger in those early years was his Golden Retriever, Roscoe. When I arrived on the scene during Matt's last year of college, I took Roscoe's seat beside Matt and Roscoe was relegated to the back of the pickup. Roscoe passed away, but the truck, she kept going.
That truck made many trips back and forth over the mountains to and from college. After Matt graduated, it took him to work everyday. It brought all our wedding gifts to our first tiny apartment. It transported my Grandma's piano to our first little house. Gracie was just two weeks old at the time and she made the journey North and back with us. The truck hauled loads of junk to the dump and countless loads of bark, sod, dirt and brick. She saved Matt (and our black lab, Abby) from terrible injury on icy roads one early January morning when she rolled, but landed upright with Matt and the dog safely inside. Matt and a friend banged out the dents (as best they could) and Matt continued to drive the truck to work for the next two years.
The truck never really recovered from the rollover, though, and continued to fall into disrepair. In all her lifetime she never was converted to use unleaded gas. The pickup needed a new radiator and had numerous other ailments. Yet, she took her biyearly trip to the dump and was even able to transport Matt's riding lawnmower to our new house this past summer. Alas, though, her time was done. She had served her owner well for many years. The truck was sold to a man who seemed to have high hopes of repairing her. Maybe she still has the capability of providing a another batch of memories to the new owner, a man who will have the time to love her the way Matt always did.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Milestones of Adulthood
Words are absent to express the significance of selling my truck. I find it both profound and insignificant and am unable to explain myself further. Perhaps you have (or you will) experience this in your life. Our treasure is not in this world. -matt
Christmas Song
The kids and I saw Faith Hill's Christmas special on PBS a few weeks ago. After watching the show, I bought the cd, called "Joy to the World," to add to our Christmas music collection. Our family particularly loves the last song, "A Baby Changes Everything." I'm a traditionalist when it comes to Christmas music, but this song is a very noteworthy exception.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Celebrating with GG
Our kids are fortunate to have two great grandmothers. We helped one of them celebrate her 85th birthday yesterday. We thought the winter storms that were predicted would cancel our travel plans, but we were able to get there after the worst of it had passed. Grandma was very pleased that we made it safe and sound. We had a wonderful time helping her celebrate such a momentous occasion. We enjoyed seeing our aunts, uncles and cousins,too. We even had an unexpected treat in being able to attend church with Grandma this morning and meet many of her friends.
The drive home was gorgeous. The evergreens were all decked out in their winter white. It looked like God had taken a giant sifter and gone wild with the confectioner's sugar. The Christmas hymns we had playing in the van were the perfect accompaniment to God's handiwork.
One funny to share. Last night we stayed in a hotel. Joel fell asleep in Grace and Elizabeth's bed and then Daddy transferred him to the port-a-crib. I heard sniffling and whimpering at 1 a.m. and looked up to see Joel standing at the rail of the crib with a very sad face. I picked him up and he let out a wail and began pointing to the door. I think he thought we were staying at the Hotel California. I was able to comfort him and get him settled down again, but it took a while. This morning when Joel woke up, he put on his shoes right away (over his feet pjers) and then proceeded to hand everyone else their shoes. He was quite sure he wanted to leave that place and he wanted to make sure we were all going to go with him. Poor little guy. You have to wonder what goes through their little heads sometimes. Joel did enjoy the ride home and was especially pleased to find snow had fallen at our house while we were away. He just kept squealing, "Snowwwww! Snowwww!" I know he'll be delighted to have his first playtime in the snow tomorrow morning.
The drive home was gorgeous. The evergreens were all decked out in their winter white. It looked like God had taken a giant sifter and gone wild with the confectioner's sugar. The Christmas hymns we had playing in the van were the perfect accompaniment to God's handiwork.
One funny to share. Last night we stayed in a hotel. Joel fell asleep in Grace and Elizabeth's bed and then Daddy transferred him to the port-a-crib. I heard sniffling and whimpering at 1 a.m. and looked up to see Joel standing at the rail of the crib with a very sad face. I picked him up and he let out a wail and began pointing to the door. I think he thought we were staying at the Hotel California. I was able to comfort him and get him settled down again, but it took a while. This morning when Joel woke up, he put on his shoes right away (over his feet pjers) and then proceeded to hand everyone else their shoes. He was quite sure he wanted to leave that place and he wanted to make sure we were all going to go with him. Poor little guy. You have to wonder what goes through their little heads sometimes. Joel did enjoy the ride home and was especially pleased to find snow had fallen at our house while we were away. He just kept squealing, "Snowwwww! Snowwww!" I know he'll be delighted to have his first playtime in the snow tomorrow morning.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Christmas Photo Shoot
The annual Christmas picture of the kids. The end result should be one of happy, smiling faces evoking joy in the observer. I can't tell you how difficult it is to get six kids to smile all at the same time-- and when the camera is ready.
This year--three different days, about fifty different shots. Result--one so-so picture that I'll call good enough. I resorted to bribery for all three photo shoots. On the last shoot I pulled out the M & Ms I had intended to put in the candy dish on Christmas Eve. Joel wasn't satisfied with just a couple of M & Ms, he wanted the whole bag. So I gave it to him. He's got a mouthful and tight grip on the bag in the Macduff Kids 2008 Christmas picture. At least Joel was IN picture. Up to that point he wouldn't have anything to do with it. I know the other kids felt the same way, they just have slightly more self-control. Next year we'll try again with the same predictable results, I'm sure.
One thing I did differently this year--I didn't worry about the kids clothes. I just took the picture in black and white so that it wouldn't matter that Paul's camo clashed with Lydia's pink coat. Here's a few pictures that didn't make the cut:
This year--three different days, about fifty different shots. Result--one so-so picture that I'll call good enough. I resorted to bribery for all three photo shoots. On the last shoot I pulled out the M & Ms I had intended to put in the candy dish on Christmas Eve. Joel wasn't satisfied with just a couple of M & Ms, he wanted the whole bag. So I gave it to him. He's got a mouthful and tight grip on the bag in the Macduff Kids 2008 Christmas picture. At least Joel was IN picture. Up to that point he wouldn't have anything to do with it. I know the other kids felt the same way, they just have slightly more self-control. Next year we'll try again with the same predictable results, I'm sure.
One thing I did differently this year--I didn't worry about the kids clothes. I just took the picture in black and white so that it wouldn't matter that Paul's camo clashed with Lydia's pink coat. Here's a few pictures that didn't make the cut:
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Jesus is the Reason II
In my last post, I wrote about honoring Christ through the Christmas decorations in our home. Obviously, it's much easier to honor Christ outwardly than it is to honor Him inwardly, in my heart. I'm a list person. I like to check things off of my list, especially this time of year. I get really task-oriented and when something (or someone) gets in the way of completing the task, I get frustrated and CRABBY.
The last few summers, the gals and I have been studying the concept of "taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ." The last couple of years, I've made a conscious effort to put this into practice during the Christmas season. I've had some successes and some failures. This year I'm back at it again. I've also added the goal of "learning to be content in every circumstance." Instead of seeing interruptions as interruptions, I try to accept them and not get angry because of them.
I have a three-pronged approach to warding off the Christmas grumpies. I'm using this approach again this year and I plan to do better than I did last year. Next year I'll plan to do better than I did this year. Here it is:
1. Stay in the Word. No matter how busy I get, if I don't take time for my morning Bible reading, everything falls apart. I usually only spend fifteen to twenty minutes reading through the scriptures of the day in my one year Bible. I say a couple of quick prayers and then get started on the day. (I do all this in the bathroom--the only place where I can get a bit of privacy.) I do try to spend longer times in prayer when I can (during quiet time or in the middle of the night).
2. Delegate. This is a toughy for me. I like to do things my way, therefore I like to do things myself. I've had to learn that other people do things differently than I do and that's o.k.--at least it's done. Besides, the kids are eager to help out with tasks such as stuffing Christmas cards, wrapping presents and baking.
3. Lower expectations. Some things won't get done well or done at all. That's o.k. My expectations have lowered so much over the years I hardly recognize them anymore, but it's just not possible for me to do all that I used to do at Christmas.
As a way to check my attitude this year, I've been asking myself, "When my kids are grown, will they remember Crabby Christmas Momma or will they remember peaceful momma who took the time to celebrate the birth of Jesus with them?" I'm not saying I'll do all of this perfectly this year. Sanctification is a process, but it's a process that's well worth the goal. "Not that I have already obtained all of this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me." (Phil. 3:12)
The last few summers, the gals and I have been studying the concept of "taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ." The last couple of years, I've made a conscious effort to put this into practice during the Christmas season. I've had some successes and some failures. This year I'm back at it again. I've also added the goal of "learning to be content in every circumstance." Instead of seeing interruptions as interruptions, I try to accept them and not get angry because of them.
I have a three-pronged approach to warding off the Christmas grumpies. I'm using this approach again this year and I plan to do better than I did last year. Next year I'll plan to do better than I did this year. Here it is:
1. Stay in the Word. No matter how busy I get, if I don't take time for my morning Bible reading, everything falls apart. I usually only spend fifteen to twenty minutes reading through the scriptures of the day in my one year Bible. I say a couple of quick prayers and then get started on the day. (I do all this in the bathroom--the only place where I can get a bit of privacy.) I do try to spend longer times in prayer when I can (during quiet time or in the middle of the night).
2. Delegate. This is a toughy for me. I like to do things my way, therefore I like to do things myself. I've had to learn that other people do things differently than I do and that's o.k.--at least it's done. Besides, the kids are eager to help out with tasks such as stuffing Christmas cards, wrapping presents and baking.
3. Lower expectations. Some things won't get done well or done at all. That's o.k. My expectations have lowered so much over the years I hardly recognize them anymore, but it's just not possible for me to do all that I used to do at Christmas.
As a way to check my attitude this year, I've been asking myself, "When my kids are grown, will they remember Crabby Christmas Momma or will they remember peaceful momma who took the time to celebrate the birth of Jesus with them?" I'm not saying I'll do all of this perfectly this year. Sanctification is a process, but it's a process that's well worth the goal. "Not that I have already obtained all of this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me." (Phil. 3:12)
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Jesus is the Reason
I once attended a Bible study where the pastor said, "If you can't imagine Christmas without a Christmas tree, then you've got a problem." At the time, my Christmas tree was very important to me as all the ornaments held a lot of sentimental value. I had been collecting the ornaments since I was a little girl. I remember being offended by the statement the pastor made, but now I see the wisdom in it.
Yesterday I was reading a blog of a homeschooling mom that I heard speak at a conference a few years back. This mom related a time when the pastor of their church asked the congregation, "If someone were to walk into your home at Christmas time, would they know you were celebrating Christ's birth?" This mom went on to explain how over the years she and her husband began eliminating certain Christmas decorations. She said it was really difficult to get rid of the decorations because they had sentimental value, but upon reflection, she realized they had no "Christ value."
A few years ago, Matt and I began an elimination process of our own--and it is a process. We really started to evaluate what message our decorations were sending about the meaning of Christmas. Our main concern has been teaching the children the true meaning of Christmas and not getting things all muddied up with the secular.
We have eliminated Santa from our of celebration of Christmas. The kids know that mom and dad fill their stockings. This was a difficult step, especially for me. I felt we were taking away some of the magic of holidays from the children. Then I read something that stated that the only one who knows who's been naughty and nice is God Himself. That changed my perspective. I'm not judging those who still include Santa in their celebrations. I know our family still does things that others would consider blasphemous. It's a process and everyone must do as the Lord leads.
For instance, the Lord lead a friend of mine to celebrate St. Nicolas Day (Dec. 6). She and her kids always do something for those in need on that day the way St. Nicolas did. The kids then look forward to doing a special activity as a family to celebrate. It's a way to honor Jesus and put the focus back on Him during the Christmas season.
The homeschooling mom also wrote in her blog about a Christmas garland she had acquired some years ago with ornaments attached that have the different names of Jesus inscribed on them. She and her family also have a big lighted cross that they hang on the outside of their house. These ideas gave me food for thought in trying to incorporate more ways of showing that Jesus is the center of Christmas. Jesus was born into this world so that He could redeem sinners like me. This is the reason to celebrate at Christmas--Christ, the most perfect gift ever given.
Yesterday I was reading a blog of a homeschooling mom that I heard speak at a conference a few years back. This mom related a time when the pastor of their church asked the congregation, "If someone were to walk into your home at Christmas time, would they know you were celebrating Christ's birth?" This mom went on to explain how over the years she and her husband began eliminating certain Christmas decorations. She said it was really difficult to get rid of the decorations because they had sentimental value, but upon reflection, she realized they had no "Christ value."
A few years ago, Matt and I began an elimination process of our own--and it is a process. We really started to evaluate what message our decorations were sending about the meaning of Christmas. Our main concern has been teaching the children the true meaning of Christmas and not getting things all muddied up with the secular.
We have eliminated Santa from our of celebration of Christmas. The kids know that mom and dad fill their stockings. This was a difficult step, especially for me. I felt we were taking away some of the magic of holidays from the children. Then I read something that stated that the only one who knows who's been naughty and nice is God Himself. That changed my perspective. I'm not judging those who still include Santa in their celebrations. I know our family still does things that others would consider blasphemous. It's a process and everyone must do as the Lord leads.
For instance, the Lord lead a friend of mine to celebrate St. Nicolas Day (Dec. 6). She and her kids always do something for those in need on that day the way St. Nicolas did. The kids then look forward to doing a special activity as a family to celebrate. It's a way to honor Jesus and put the focus back on Him during the Christmas season.
The homeschooling mom also wrote in her blog about a Christmas garland she had acquired some years ago with ornaments attached that have the different names of Jesus inscribed on them. She and her family also have a big lighted cross that they hang on the outside of their house. These ideas gave me food for thought in trying to incorporate more ways of showing that Jesus is the center of Christmas. Jesus was born into this world so that He could redeem sinners like me. This is the reason to celebrate at Christmas--Christ, the most perfect gift ever given.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Fruitcake
I'll admit it--I LOVE fruitcake. Yeah, I know all the jokes. There's only one fruitcake in the world, it just keeps getting re-gifted. The only good use for a fruitcake is as a bookend or a car jack, or whatever. I come by my love for fruitcake naturally--I inherited it from my mother, who inherited it from her mother. Others in the family have also inherited a taste for this delicious Christmas treat.
I'll also admit that it's hard to find a good fruitcake. The ones they sell in the stores are gross. So every year I make one. Butter, sugar, a little flour, six eggs and LOTS of fruit (which I buy after Christmas on clearance and stash in the freezer), lots of nuts and some whiskey. It bakes in the oven for two hours and then cures for two weeks on the counter in a stainless steel pot to soak up the brandy that gets poured over it after it bakes.
After two weeks, I take the fruitcake out of the pot and divide it into quarters. I wrap the pieces in festive green plastic wrap and ribbon and put them in the refrigerator until Christmas Eve when they get distributed to my family members who also love fruitcake.
Elizabeth helped me make the fruitcake for this Christmas today. She carefully arranged and rearranged the candied cherries and nuts to make a pretty design on the top of the cake. Something tells me she may have inherited the love of fruitcake, too. Maybe someday I'll make a non-alcoholic kiddie version, but for now it'll remain an adults only treat (and only those adults who can claim that they absolutely LOVE fruitcake).
I'll also admit that it's hard to find a good fruitcake. The ones they sell in the stores are gross. So every year I make one. Butter, sugar, a little flour, six eggs and LOTS of fruit (which I buy after Christmas on clearance and stash in the freezer), lots of nuts and some whiskey. It bakes in the oven for two hours and then cures for two weeks on the counter in a stainless steel pot to soak up the brandy that gets poured over it after it bakes.
After two weeks, I take the fruitcake out of the pot and divide it into quarters. I wrap the pieces in festive green plastic wrap and ribbon and put them in the refrigerator until Christmas Eve when they get distributed to my family members who also love fruitcake.Elizabeth helped me make the fruitcake for this Christmas today. She carefully arranged and rearranged the candied cherries and nuts to make a pretty design on the top of the cake. Something tells me she may have inherited the love of fruitcake, too. Maybe someday I'll make a non-alcoholic kiddie version, but for now it'll remain an adults only treat (and only those adults who can claim that they absolutely LOVE fruitcake).
Thursday, December 4, 2008
The New American Way
I'm embarrassed to call myself an American after reading about the death of the Wal -Mart employee who was trampled to death on the aptly named "Black Friday." Michelle Singletary, the financial columnist for the Washington Post, said it better than I ever could in her most recent column.
Lydia Logic II
Tonight, for the first time in recent memory, I defied Lydia logic.
I promised the girls early in the day that I'd take them shopping tonight to look for the Christmas gifts they wanted to buy for the people on their lists. When I told Matt my plan he said, "You mean all the girls? Lydia, too?" "Oh, no," I said. Lydia is not store-trained very well yet. No matter what store you take her to, she always finds something she wants. I was too tired to deal with that tonight, but when Lydia got wind of the plan to go shopping (it's almost impossible to hide anything from her), she begged me to take her, too.
In a stroke of genius (or at the very least, a shot in the dark), I said, "Lydia, I have a secret for you." I then bent down and whispered into her ear, "The reason we can't take you is that we're buying presents for you."
Her eyes got big and she said, "Ohhhh." All of a sudden staying home with the boys seemed like the best idea in the world. (And we really did look for something for Lydia.)
I promised the girls early in the day that I'd take them shopping tonight to look for the Christmas gifts they wanted to buy for the people on their lists. When I told Matt my plan he said, "You mean all the girls? Lydia, too?" "Oh, no," I said. Lydia is not store-trained very well yet. No matter what store you take her to, she always finds something she wants. I was too tired to deal with that tonight, but when Lydia got wind of the plan to go shopping (it's almost impossible to hide anything from her), she begged me to take her, too.
In a stroke of genius (or at the very least, a shot in the dark), I said, "Lydia, I have a secret for you." I then bent down and whispered into her ear, "The reason we can't take you is that we're buying presents for you."
Her eyes got big and she said, "Ohhhh." All of a sudden staying home with the boys seemed like the best idea in the world. (And we really did look for something for Lydia.)
Lydia Logic
I've recently had the following two conversations with my youngest daughter:
"Lydia, when you whine and scream, nobody wants to be around you."
"Taylor (Lydia's little friend) does, she doesn't mind it when I whine and scream."
"Lydia, it's rude to ask the doctor for a sucker. If he offers, then you can take it, but it's rude to ask."
"Momma, if I say, 'MAY I PLEASE have a sucker,' it's o.k."
Lydia logic--it's taking every last brain cell in my head (and a lot of God's grace) to parent this child.
"Lydia, when you whine and scream, nobody wants to be around you."
"Taylor (Lydia's little friend) does, she doesn't mind it when I whine and scream."
"Lydia, it's rude to ask the doctor for a sucker. If he offers, then you can take it, but it's rude to ask."
"Momma, if I say, 'MAY I PLEASE have a sucker,' it's o.k."
Lydia logic--it's taking every last brain cell in my head (and a lot of God's grace) to parent this child.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Moldy Monstrosity
I purchased a big ol' pumpkin from my goddaughter, Opal, earlier this Fall. I had Matt put it on the front porch for decoration. Within the first week, it began to mold. Well, now that it's December and I have a Christmas wreath hanging on the front door, I decided the pumpkin must go. Tonight was the night. The garbage man comes early in the morning.
Matt was at a meeting for the evening, so we were without his manly muscles. I decided to dangle a carrot of hot chocolate with marshmellow Peep snowmen as a reward to anyone who would help me dispose of the moldy monstrosity. Joel even tried to help with the obligatory heavy-lifting "ughs." The thing was heavy, slimy and awkward. After multiple tries, Paul and I finally heaved it up into the garbage can, which we hauled to the curb.
A few years ago it really would have bothered me to have grody pumpkin that everyone had to pass by on the way into the house. Martha Stewart doesn't live here, that's obvious. My loving husband, my six wonderful kids and lil' ol' me live here and we're happy we do.
Matt was at a meeting for the evening, so we were without his manly muscles. I decided to dangle a carrot of hot chocolate with marshmellow Peep snowmen as a reward to anyone who would help me dispose of the moldy monstrosity. Joel even tried to help with the obligatory heavy-lifting "ughs." The thing was heavy, slimy and awkward. After multiple tries, Paul and I finally heaved it up into the garbage can, which we hauled to the curb.
A few years ago it really would have bothered me to have grody pumpkin that everyone had to pass by on the way into the house. Martha Stewart doesn't live here, that's obvious. My loving husband, my six wonderful kids and lil' ol' me live here and we're happy we do.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Weekend Getaway
Matt and I (and Jude) were able to get away for a couple of days this past weekend. Matt's parents did an awesome job of watching the five other kids while we were gone.
We arrived at our destination, a small bread and breakfast, late afternoon on Friday. The place was not real fancy, but we're not real fancy people, so we liked it. I fed Jude in the recliner in our room and sneaked in a few peeks of Food Network (I could watch that station all day and not get bored. That's why we had to get rid of cable t.v. a few years ago.)
Saturday we spent the majority of the day shopping. I had a Value Village coupon for twenty percent off, Goodwill was having a fifty percent off everything in the store sale and Linens-N-Things was having a going out business sale. I can't speak for Matt (Mr. "I'm allergic to shopping"), but I had a great time (don't I have a wonderful and patient husband?). It was so nice not to have to leave a store because someone was having a meltdown or because it was quiet time.
My favorite find of the day was a small clock I bought at Goodwill for $2.50. I've been looking for a small battery operated analog clock for on top of the t.v. armoire in the family room since we moved here. Do you know how hard it is to find something like that? Well, I finally found it. It looks like a miniature mantle clock and I love it. Now I know what time it is when I'm rocking the littles in the recliner.
Saturday night we ate at an Italian restaurant. I was skeptical, but Matt insisted. I was pleasantly surprised. The pasta was al dente. It's darn near impossible to find al dente pasta, even at an Italian restaurant, but this place did it right. I had fresh fettuccine pasta with dungeness crab and a cream sauce. I haven't had pasta that good since I ate at Harry Caray's restaurant in Chicago (remember that, Dad?).
Sunday morning we had a nice breakfast at the place and then we went to church. For the last couple of years, our own church has been worshipping in the gymnasium of our church school. When the curtains are set up as "walls" it feels like the Old Testament tabernacle (though not as elaborate) and I do love it. However, I do very much miss having the Presence Candle. The church where we worshipped on Sunday had one. It's nice to have a visible reminder of God's presence among His people.
When we arrived at Grandma and Grandpa's house to pick up the kids, we weren't sure who was more tired--the kids or the grandparents. The kids had a great time, but everyone, including little Jude, was happy to be home and snugged up in his or her own bed that night.
We arrived at our destination, a small bread and breakfast, late afternoon on Friday. The place was not real fancy, but we're not real fancy people, so we liked it. I fed Jude in the recliner in our room and sneaked in a few peeks of Food Network (I could watch that station all day and not get bored. That's why we had to get rid of cable t.v. a few years ago.)
Saturday we spent the majority of the day shopping. I had a Value Village coupon for twenty percent off, Goodwill was having a fifty percent off everything in the store sale and Linens-N-Things was having a going out business sale. I can't speak for Matt (Mr. "I'm allergic to shopping"), but I had a great time (don't I have a wonderful and patient husband?). It was so nice not to have to leave a store because someone was having a meltdown or because it was quiet time.
My favorite find of the day was a small clock I bought at Goodwill for $2.50. I've been looking for a small battery operated analog clock for on top of the t.v. armoire in the family room since we moved here. Do you know how hard it is to find something like that? Well, I finally found it. It looks like a miniature mantle clock and I love it. Now I know what time it is when I'm rocking the littles in the recliner.
Saturday night we ate at an Italian restaurant. I was skeptical, but Matt insisted. I was pleasantly surprised. The pasta was al dente. It's darn near impossible to find al dente pasta, even at an Italian restaurant, but this place did it right. I had fresh fettuccine pasta with dungeness crab and a cream sauce. I haven't had pasta that good since I ate at Harry Caray's restaurant in Chicago (remember that, Dad?).
Sunday morning we had a nice breakfast at the place and then we went to church. For the last couple of years, our own church has been worshipping in the gymnasium of our church school. When the curtains are set up as "walls" it feels like the Old Testament tabernacle (though not as elaborate) and I do love it. However, I do very much miss having the Presence Candle. The church where we worshipped on Sunday had one. It's nice to have a visible reminder of God's presence among His people.
When we arrived at Grandma and Grandpa's house to pick up the kids, we weren't sure who was more tired--the kids or the grandparents. The kids had a great time, but everyone, including little Jude, was happy to be home and snugged up in his or her own bed that night.
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